Oh lordy, I'm drowning over here. And none of it is very bad, but it has just been non-stop. First there was the Man Cold and the Man Broken Toe. Then we had the Screaming Angry Sleepless Ear Infection of Doom, which turned out to be resistant to amoxicillin so we had to have ten days of a stronger antibiotic, which also meant ten days of Constant Nasty Pooping of Doom, which just happened to coincide with Owen's decision to potty train himself. There has been much laundry. And then Mia turned into the poster child for horrible spring allergies complete with streaming eye boogers and screaming. Then on Friday, we started to notice that Mia couldn't hear. At all. Sometimes, but other times she was fine, and she wasn't complaining about anything, so we figured either her ears were stuffed from the allergies or that she was a space cadet from all the allergy medicine. Finally took her to the doctor on Tuesday and learned that she can't hear because both of her ears are massively infected and oh yes, she's on the same antibiotic we just got Owen off of so we are waiting for the fun to begin.
And just for kicks, I hurt my foot running a month ago and it hasn't gotten better so I finally went to the doctor and scored myself a referral to the orthopedic surgeon so that he can send me for an MRI. It appears that my warranty has lapsed, because I have been to the doctor more times in the past six months than in the past six years, and that includes the birth of two children. Also I'm weeks behind on work and have to figure out what to wear to an event for Chris's work, which is a task for which I am not qualified and at which I always fail miserably.
See, nothing all that bad, I told you. And on the flip-side, it is just possible that the Cactus-Fish family has moved entire out of diapers, at least until Chris and I start to require them, and my doctor put me on anti-inflammatory drugs until I can see the orthopedist and my foot feels well enough that I am even considering giving running a try this weekend and I am less than 48 hours away from babysitters and date night. I am trying to breathe deeply and get over myself, but I am starting to think that the only thing that will help is a couple of days sprawled in the sand of a tropical island somewhere. I am just barely considering taking Chris with me.
(Please don't call me a baby, I already know that.)